


House Rules

by Sinful Words (MontanaHarper)



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Stargate Atlantis RPF
Genre: F/M, First Time, M/M, Yuletide 2006
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-24
Updated: 2006-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:09:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MontanaHarper/pseuds/Sinful%20Words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It has to be the timing, Joe tells himself, because if Jason habitually checked out his ass when he wasn't looking, someone would've noticed it and there would've been teasing.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Rules

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlemimm (Mimm)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimm/gifts).



> Prompt: "Any male/male slash with guys from the following list: Connor, the two Davids, Jason, Joe, Kavan and Paul. :) Like, DavidH/Paul or Connor/Kavan or Joe/Jason or whatever your heart desires."
> 
> ethrosdemon and molly_o were both kind enough to look over the pool-playing scene for me; Rachael Sabotini gave it a final once-over and reassured me that I'd fulfilled my mandate. *g*

It's only due to chance that Joe gets a clue, and when he does it throws him for one hell of a loop.

They're playing pool in the basement—a common pastime since Jason moved in, and one that Katherine encourages because it keeps them out from under her feet—and by some coincidence of timing Joe happens to look back over his shoulder at exactly the right moment to catch a completely unexpected expression on Jason's face. It has to be the timing, Joe tells himself, because if Jason habitually checked out his ass when he wasn't looking, _someone_ would've noticed it and there would've been teasing.

As it is, he's rattled enough when the takes the shot that he scratches, and Jason, still apparently unaware that he's been caught out, laughs and claps his hand on Joe's shoulder in a bone-jarring gesture of affection.

After that, Joe starts to watch more carefully, trying to figure out if it was some weird one-time thing—he's even completely willing to accept that it was a hallucination on his part, brought on by overwork—or if Jason's just capable of an unexpected degree of subtlety. A few weeks go by, and he decides that Jason's a much better actor than any of them are giving him credit for. Joe's caught a couple more very casual-seeming glances that stop seeming quite so casual when taken together, and now that he's satisfied with the circumstantial evidence, it's time to decide what to do about the situation.

Jason's out for the evening, some pre-pre-holiday party that Torri's dragging most of the cast to. Joe begs off with the honest excuse that he wants to spend the evening with his wife and kids, and by the time it's bedtime for the boys he's not sure who wore out whom; he's excruciatingly aware of the unrelenting approach of this thirty-ninth birthday, and wondering whether it really was such a brilliant idea to wait so long to have kids. He kisses them goodnight and lets Katherine do the honors of tucking them in, while he kicks back in his armchair with a roaring fire in front of him and a beer in his hand.

When she's done, Katherine comes and sits at his feet, folding her arms across his knees and propping her chin up on them. Something twists low in his stomach, because she's even more beautiful now than when they met, and he doesn't regret a day of the time they've been together. He quashes the twinge of awkwardness at her outwardly subservient pose; it makes him feel entirely too much like he's following in the footsteps of his resolutely patriarchal father, even though their relationship is nothing at all like that of his parents.

"Penny," she offers softly, able as always to tell when the confusion of thoughts swirling around in his head aren't work-related.

He wants to tell her, but...this isn't really a situation they've dealt with before, despite the sudden _Atlantis_ -fueled exponential increase in women who seem to find him attractive. Lustful fans are one thing, but a friend with a crush is something entirely different. Particularly when Joe himself isn't at all sure how he feels about the situation.

Still, they've weathered a lot together and he can't imagine anything even putting a dent in the relationship they've built, so he says, "Have you noticed anything about Jason recently?"

"He seems lonely," she says thoughtfully, and he's surprised because 'lonely' isn't an adjective he would've applied to someone as gregarious as Jason. She shoots him a searching look, then continues, "I think he likes you."

Her subtle emphasis on 'likes' tells him that she's noticed the same thing he has, and he nods, less surprised by her perceptivity than he would've expected. "I think you're right." They're both silent for a moment. "What should I do?" he finally asks.

She shifts a little, and smiles up at him. "Well, that depends. Do you like him?"

That does surprise him, because the biggest hurdle he'd faced in getting her to even go out on a date with him in the first place had been her deep skepticism of his—of _any_ attractive man's—ability to be faithful. He's not used to guarding himself around her, so by the time it occurs to him to do so, it's obvious that she's already read his expression. The look she gives him in return is part exasperation and part affection.

"Sometimes it's easier if you talk it out," she suggests, but he's not sure where to even begin. When he doesn't respond, she prompts, "He calls you 'old man,' but he never hesitates to go skateboarding or play pool with you."

And suddenly the words are there, easy to say. "That's when I first noticed," he tells her. "We were playing pool, and I caught him looking at my ass instead of at the table."

"Can't blame him for that." She grins, a dirty grin that he hasn't seen nearly enough in the last couple of years. "I'd be surprised if he were the only one."

He shakes his head and grins back. "C'mere."

It doesn't take much encouragement to get her sitting in his lap, returning his passionate kisses with equal fervor. Before long they move from the chair to the hearth rug, where he slides his hands up under her skirt and tells her how beautiful she looks in the golden glow of the fire, and she straddles his hips and drives him slowly crazy in all the best ways.

~ * ~ * ~

Joe wakes to Katherine sitting on the edge of their bed, fully dressed. "Morning, sleepy-head," she says, leaning down to give him a quick kiss. "The kids wanted to wake you and tell you, but I thought you should hear it from me first, so you didn't get the wrong impression."

The words leave knots in his stomach; in his experience, the wrong impression is never actually wrong, but he's willing to listen. "Hear what?" he asks, scooting up until he's propped against the headboard.

"I thought I'd take the boys and go visit your family for a week or so, since we're not going to be spending Christmas with them this year," she says. He opens his mouth to protest, to ask her to please not go, and she presses her fingers to his lips. "Yes, it has to do with our conversation last night, but it's not at all what you think. We'll be back by the twenty-second, come Hell or high water, I promise." He must not look convinced, because she adds, "Maybe earlier, if your mother is in top form—" And he has to smile at that, because he knows just how nuts his mother can make her. "—so you'd better work fast, just in case we're only gone for a week."

He can't quite believe what she's saying; he's still afraid that she's leaving him, despite her reassurances, but he's also mildly offended that she's apparently made this major decision for him. "That's a pretty big assumption you're making," he says, and he sounds a little more gruff than he meant to, but she just nods.

"Point," she acknowledges, looking down at the comforter and picking a possibly imaginary piece of lint off it. "I guess I just wanted to be totally clear that I'm okay with you taking it as far as you're comfortable." She shrugs, looking a little embarrassed but meeting his gaze again. "I'm not exactly an expert on setting boundaries for my husband's affair."

Joe sucks in a breath, feeling like he's been sucker-punched, and says, "Kath—"

"No," she interrupts him again. "I know there's baggage attached to that term, and I'd love to find a better one, but now is not the time for semantic and sociolinguistic debate."

"I love you," he tells her, not sure what else to say.

Her smile is blinding. "Well isn't that handy," she says, "because I love you, too." Her gaze flicks down and then back up again. "But that's not what this is about." She meets his eyes squarely, and he can hear how earnest she is in the tone of her voice. "I care about Jason, and he's lonely and in need of comfort right now. I think you care about him, too, and I also think you're the right person to provide that comfort. I'm telling you that it's okay with me; do whatever you need to do. Whatever _Jason_ needs you to do."

When she reaches out and brushes the back of her hand across his cheek, her sincerity is so obvious that he can't help but believe her.

~ * ~ * ~

"If they're going to visit your parents, why'd they go without you?" Jason asks, tipping his head back and looking upside-down at Joe from his position on the rug in front of the fire.

It's a perfectly valid question, but one that Joe doesn't really have an answer for; at least not an answer that he can give Jason. Instead, he shrugs and spins it, a half-truth that's better than none at all: "Katherine thought you and I needed some guy time, without her or the boys around."

Jason seems to take that at face value, nodding slightly and going back to flipping the cap from his beer bottle between his fingers. Joe watches as it catches the firelight, glinting silver against the warm golden glow of Jason's skin, and thinks maybe this isn't going to be so difficult after all.

"Wanna play some pool?" he asks, and there's no hesitation before Jason's casual, "Sure."

Joe racks and Jason breaks. Jason sinks a few, but his stroke is off tonight, and most of his shots look more like luck than skill.

"Nice action."

Jason grimaces as the ball bounces out of the corner. "Not nice enough."

Shrugging, Joe takes a bank shot, undercutting it but not really caring; of the two games he's playing, pool is by far the least important. Jason grins at Joe's failure before turning his attention back to the game, and Joe can almost see him evaluating possible shots in his head. He waits until Jason's leaning over the table, sleek wood of his cue sliding suggestively along the knuckles of his bridge hand, before speaking.

"I think I see your problem," he says, all serious and earnest. "You've got a good stroke, but you need better stick control." He puts just a hint of flirtation in his tone, and watches as Jason tenses up and blows his shot, the cue ball disappearing into the corner pocket. Joe laughs. "That's a ball-in-hand for me," he says with a dirty grin, fishing it out. He can feel Jason's gaze on him.

"You sharking me, Flanigan?" Jason's voice is gruff and his eyebrow is raised in a blatant attempt at intimidation, but it's more Ronon than Jason, really, and the adrenaline has kicked in so Joe's flying with no worries at all.

He lets his gaze trail down to the front of Jason's pants and back up again before making eye contact. "No sharking," he says. "I thought I could give you a hand, that's all."

Jason closes his eyes for a second, and takes what looks like a slow, deep breath. When he looks at Joe again, his eyes are darker and his body language has shifted slightly from casual to intense. It's not a role, or at least not one Joe is familiar with, but it's not the easy-going Jason he's used to, either. "You're not exactly free stroking, yourself, tonight," Jason says, and there's amusement at the corners of his mouth. Joe takes the double-entendre as an invitation, and he steps closer—a slow, deliberate movement that gives Jason a chance to gracefully deflect him.

Jason doesn't.

Joe can't remember the last time he kissed someone taller than himself, but it's surprisingly easy to slide his arms around Jason's neck, to press full-length against the unfamiliar solidity of Jason's body and tilt his head up until, with a soft groan, Jason closes his eyes, and their lips meet. He feels Jason's hands, warm on the small of his back and between his shoulder blades, and he goes from half-hard to aching in the space of a few breaths.

"This," Jason says quietly, though Joe can feel the rumble of it in his chest, "is not a good idea."

But Jason doesn't let go of him, so Joe says, "It's a great idea," and it's like he's given Jason permission to cut loose, because Jason spins them both around so that Joe's leaning against the pool table. Joe lets himself be urged back and up, until he's sitting on the rail and Jason's both between his legs and wrapped around him, hands moving restlessly from Joe's thighs to his hips to his shoulders.

It's nothing like the slow, languorous sex he's used to with Katherine; Jason is like a caged whirlwind, all restrained energy on the verge of breaking free. Everything is unfamiliar, each kiss and caress new, and each reaction raw and unashamed. It's been a long time since Joe's felt like this, delighting in the exploration of a lover's body for the first time, and reveling in the responses evoked by his touch. It's been even longer since that body was as strong and masculine as his own, but he still remembers the differences in plane and angle, and his hands glide over sleek, hard muscle as easily as over soft, feminine curves.

Afterward, they lie tangled together on top of the pool table, breath quieting as they sink into a post-coital haze of sleepy satisfaction, and Joe leans forward to press a kiss against the corner of Jason's mouth. Jason smiles without opening his eyes.

They've got at least a week, and who knows what will happen after that; Katherine's surprised him once already. The pool table's never going to be the same, though.


End file.
